


While He is Away

by herlocksholmes1888



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Angst, Case Fic, Gen, Investigation, Light Angst, Mystery, everyone is incredibly sad, hoe even I am sad, this is a post-fina fanfiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:35:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28739625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herlocksholmes1888/pseuds/herlocksholmes1888
Summary: Sherlock Holmes has been dead for months, but dr. Watson keeps up with inspector Lestrade to help in times of need.





	While He is Away

**Author's Note:**

> I can't write my original stories due to head empty so I wrote this 4-page fanfic instead lmao enjoy

**WHILE HE IS AWAY**

The read must remember the time in which my friend disappeared in swiss territory and the time in which the world believed that the great Sherlock Holmes had lost his life in the claws of evil professor Moriarty. Oftentimes, even after all these years, my mind returns to those years with heavy heart and I can not hide that the same occurs to Holmes everytime he realizes how his disappearence has permanently affected me. But, even in the pain of his absence, I managed myself and compensated his absence being of great help to Scotland Yard.

I had remained a consultant to the metropolitan police, though most of the request came from inspector Lestrade, to whom Holmes and I knew more. Of course, common place as I was, I could never be compared to the extraordinary mind we believed to have lost, but it was me who spent most of my days in his company - therefore, it was me who knew more about what made him so successful. For this reason, it was no surprise seeing the policeman with a ferret face entering my house during that sad August afternoon.

My wife Mary had fallen ill from the sickness that was bound to take her from me, and I had sworn to remain by her side everytime I could. She looked at me with worry once she heard the bell ring, saying someone was coming to take my attentions away from her. When Lestrade emerged, she was certain.

"He will put you in something dangerous again, John." she said me.

"It wasn't that dangerous the last time..."

"You were nearly shot by a ruffian! John, if this is not danger...!"

"I'm going to be all right, it's a promise." said I, holding her hand.

That did not calm her down, but she stopped verbalizing her complaints and allowed me to see our guest in peace.

Lestrade was already sitting down on one of my armchairs. We knew each other for long enough to skip formalities while working together during those times. He nodded to me and, after asking how my Mary's health was, he said: "Hot news, doctor, hot news! A body was discovered in Soho."

"It's not that hot... I mean, it's an extremely populated area."

"Heavens, man! You spoke in the same monotone tone as him! I'll start believing spirits like this!" the little inspector shivered. "Either way, I wouldn't have come here if it was something ordinary. If you allow me to explain what makes this one so interesting, perhaps you'll change your mind."

"Very well. I'll fetch my notebook."

The notebook was filled with cases I had had with Holmes before his death and passing my eyes through the notes left me with a heavy heart. Still, I decided to proceed. I thought Holmes would like if I proceeded. 

"The body belongs to a man with a bad reputation. Brian Nugent his name. He was found inside of a locked pub with a whiskey bottle fallen beside his corpse. There is no sign of violence and we are waiting for the autopsy so we confirm if it was natural causes. The thing is, dr. Watson, I already have the results in my head. At least, I guess so."

"Do you know the cause of death?"

"I shall confirm it near lunchtime. But back to the narrative - I had decided to examine all the area around, searching for a witness who could have seen what happened before Nugent entered. I may be slow, but _A Study in Scarlet_ taught me a good lesson! I found a woman, Margareth Wells, who told me that the young Nugent was really scared as he went into that pub. Aparently, he worked there and made so little money that there are rumours about him in the... not so bright side of the law.

"I asked her if the pub was open when Nugent got in and she told me:

" - The pub is always open during night, it's when the clients come. Why that sick man was locked up that I don't know.

" - Why you call him a sick man? - I decided to ask.

" - Oh, he was gross! He lived flirting with me like that was my only purpouse! I am not surprised he made enemies.

" - And what makes you think it wasn't suicide?

" - That bastard loved his life way to much. Unless... - she paused. I waited. She finished: - Unless Frederick was blackmailing him.

"Apparently, Frederick is a thief who is so incompetent he had to make himself a name under other crime. Wells imagined that, perhaps, he found out something about Nugent and that made him die.

"I investigated the pub better and nothing had been movd. I found nowhere the murderer could've escaped. I even stamped on the ground to see if there was any sort of hiding place, but nothing! And now you see my dilemma: everyone thinks it's a suicide. But it's too easy, isn't it?" 

"You think it wasn't suicide?"

"Half of my mind does. The other half knows mr. Holmes would not agree with me. It's odd to have two halves of you arguing like a dogfight in your brains just because no one outside disagrees with you."

"Do you think he was poisoned by someone else?"

"Yes. Maybe Frederick is involved and he managed to get away from the crime scene somehow; I could get him and pressure him until he tells me how."

I sighed. It wasn't the first time Lestrade came to me because he felt his conclusion would be condemned by my friend. I had no idea how to tell him I did not share the same creative brain as him. "Well, it seems like you have your whole case. I don't know why you need my help."

"Because that's _exactly_ the problem! Everyone agrees with me! Mr. Holmes wouldn't, I know he wouldn't, _he never did_. If I do anything wrong now... Do you know how things are at the Yard now that he's gone?"

"No, you haven't told me."

"Everyone talks to me like I am some kind of hurt dog just because it is my fault Holmes started helping us. _Everyone_. A type named Hopkins joined the force and he keeps asking me about him and I can't take it anymore. If I do anything wrong now of all times..."

"I can go to the crime scene if it makes you feel better."

He thanked me and we entered a hansom. 

“I just need to warn you... they moved the body. And took away the clues. And they tidied the place." He said, ashamed. 

The place had no sight of fresh air and it was extremely dark even during the afternoon. I walked around, not knowing exactly where to look or what to do. Everything seemed perfectly normal. Inspector Lestrade stared at me from afair, holding his small and nervous hands, hopeful in my success.

Once I grew tired of walking, I told him: "Nothing wrong. No hidding place. No murderer appearing suddenly and attacking me. All is well."

"Did you look deep enough?"

"I did what I could. I'm very sorry, Lestrade, but I am not energetic. Honestly, I just want to throw myself in a bed and never get up again..."

"Then I'll arrest Frederick immediatly! Thank you for your assistence, dr. Watson!"

I nodded and went home.

Night was starting to come and I was reading THe Chronicle when, suddenly, I had a realization. I felt like a fool for not having thought of the possibility earlier. Since I am not as petulant nor as exaggerated as Holmes, I shall say what I had found out: Lestrade had only the story of one woman to base all his case and that woman could very much be lying.

I hurried to Scotland Yard and went straight up to Lestrade. I found him sat down in his desk and he seemed surprised to see me. He asked me what was wrong and I told him: "Is there any other witness backing what mrs. Wells says?"

"Well, no. I hadn't found a soul nearby..."

"Nugent was _flirting_ with her, she said?"

"By Jove, I was so blind!" he yelled, lifting himself from his desk. "We need to find her immediatly!"

We went to Soho with other policemen and searched. The woman had vanished, but the young man lighting up the gas said he had seen a woman with the same description running to the docks.

We found Margareth Wells in her escape and she confessed, saying she had poisoned Brian Nugent for all the times he had make her uncomfortable. She had put poison in his drinks and, as he locked the place and was preparing himself to get out through the backdoor, he drank and died. In that moment, I wish I was just an extra-oficial force for I believed she was on the right. I wished to let her get away. But Lestrade and other policemen were nearby and a murder is a murder in their eyes, no matter the cause. Wells was arrested.

Lestrade told me a goodbye with a tiny smile in his rodent-like face. I asked him why he was looking at me like that and he replied, simply: "You did good, Watson."

"It was extraordinary simple, I just had to look at the simplest detail. It was really..." I stopped speaking, suddenly stricken with many emotions once I realized what I was about to say. "... elementary..." I whispered.


End file.
